


Here

by lostresidentevilpotter



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 13:15:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20866844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostresidentevilpotter/pseuds/lostresidentevilpotter
Summary: Post 5x16. Ginny interrogates Al for information on the helicopter, and someone unexpected comes to her rescue.





	Here

**Author's Note:**

> Let me just say, I know less than jack shit about CRM, and there is also no plot to this story. This is something short and sweet that I threw together very quickly. It probably makes no sense, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

She starts with waterboarding.

“Just tell me what you know about that helicopter, Al,” Ginny says in her sickly sweet voice. She doesn’t do the actual deed, just stands by and watches as her goons carry out the act. Even if Al wanted to answer, she can’t, not with water draining down her throat.

The water lets up just long enough for Al to splutter out, “I already told you. I don’t know _anything_.”

Ginny smiles. “Right. Boys, keep up the pressure. She’ll crack eventually.”

Al grins deliriously. “Y’know it’s not my first time being waterboarded, right?”

*

Ginny changes strategies the next day. Maybe it was Al’s smartass comment. Maybe that was Ginny’s plan all along. Ginny returns to Al’s small room with two brutes in tow. They pull Al to her feet, and one of the guys sends his fist into Al’s face before Ginny even asks a question.

“Keep her conscious,” Ginny instructs.

Al spits blood at Ginny’s feet before the fist comes at her again.

“Just tell me about the helicopter, Al,” Ginny says. “It’ll all end.”

“Fuck you.”

Ginny sighs quietly. “Hit her again.”

*

Al loses track of her days between beatings and waterboarding. She doesn’t see anyone except Ginny and her henchmen, doesn’t know if her friends are dead or alive.

“You know, I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” Al says on her tenth day as a captive. “I missed your company.”

Ginny smiles, puts her hands on her hips. “I like you, Al,” she says. “I really do. I just wish you’d cooperate so I didn’t have to have my guys mess your pretty face up anymore.”

Al grins even though it hurts. Everything hurts, frankly. “You’re messing my pretty face up for no reason. I don’t know shit. I already told you. I saw the helicopter take off. That’s it.”

Ginny waves the two men forward, and they drag Al off her bed. She doesn’t make a sound. Not anymore.

*

On the sixteenth day, only Ginny walks into Al’s room. The door shuts behind her, and she hovers over Al’s bed, staring down at her. Al has lost track of how many times she’s set her nose. She breathes raggedly through her mouth at all times. She spits mouthfuls of blood onto the floor with alarming regularity.

“What?” Al says. “Finally feel bad about messing up my face?”

“No,” Ginny answers. She presses her fingertips against a particularly nasty gash at Al’s temple and smiles as Al winces and jerks away. Not that she can go far. “Do you have something you’d like to tell me?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get dinner last night,” Al complains.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. Fuck you.”

Ginny grabs Al by the face, twists her head toward her. Al grits her teeth, breathing rapidly through them, unable to fight back. “Oh, Al,” Ginny says. She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, not releasing Al’s face from her grasp. “You know, I figured out that you know nothing about the helicopter a week ago.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Ginny laughs. “Funny, isn’t it? This has all been for nothing. I thought that’d mess you up the most.”

Al spits straight into Ginny’s face, and it’s flecked with blood. Ginny barely gives it a thought, swiping the back of her hand across her face and flicking her hand. “Guess I was right,” Ginny says. She releases Al’s face, pats her cheek, then spins and struts out of the room. The door slams behind her, and Al groans.

*

The explosion rocks the entire building, and Al jolts awake. She has no weapons, no way to defend herself. Her face is fucked up, though her nose is finally getting a chance to actually begin to heal. Her stomach and ribs are littered with bruises, and every breath hurts. So whatever this explosion is, it’s probably a good thing.

The door’s blasted open, and Al only just manages to raise her arms to shield her face from the debris. She can’t even bring herself to sit up, but her eyes lock on the figure in the doorway. Someone tall, dressed in all black, bite-proof clothing.

“No way,” Al says, grinning in spite of the pain.

The figure glances over their shoulder then lowers their rifle and whips their helmet off. She shakes her hair out of her face, lips parted.

“Al?”

*

Al could cry, if she knew it wouldn’t hurt every part of her body. “Isabelle,” she barely manages to whisper. “What are you – why are you here?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Isabelle says. She looks over her shoulder then rushes to Al’s bedside. “I’m getting you out of here.”

“I think I’m in love with you, Isabelle from Indiana.”

Isabelle laughs, a wonderful sound, and she shakes her head, smiling. “They really did a number on you, Al from Texas.”

“Beat the sense right out of me,” Al agrees. Isabelle pulls her helmet back on then lifts Al straight out of the bed and into her arms, no problem. Al wraps her arm around Isabelle’s neck and forces herself to stay conscious and hang on. “So what’ve you been up to?” Al asks.

Isabelle shushes her. “Not now.”

“Later?”

“Yeah. We’ll talk later. Just relax.”

Al takes that as permission to pass out and drops her head onto Isabelle’s shoulder.

*

Al wakes up in the back of a car, laid out across the seats. She still feels awful – but not as awful as before. Maybe Isabelle gave her something –

Isabelle. Al bolts upright, and Isabelle looks over her shoulder from behind the wheel. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself,” Isabelle says gently.

“You’re here,” Al says dumbly. “That wasn’t a dream.”

“It wasn’t,” Isabelle confirms.

“What – why – how –”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Isabelle says, smirking. “Even with your face all messed up.”

“Did you do something to me?”

Isabelle pulls an empty syringe from its resting place in the cup holder. “It’ll help,” Isabelle says. “And to answer your other questions – that you didn’t finish – we’ve had eyes on Virginia and her so-called pioneers for a while now.”

“And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here,” Isabelle says. She looks in the rearview mirror. “You should lie back down.”

Al does. “Are you – I mean, do you get to stay?”

“No,” Isabelle answers. Before Al can deflate too much, she says, “You do.”

*

Al manages to walk into the facility on her own, though she has no choice but to lean on Isabelle for support. Not that Al minds. Isabelle keeps her arm looped around Al’s lower back, her hand an assuring weight at Al’s waist.

“Al!”

Al turns and doesn’t have the chance to make out who’s running at her. She’s crushed between John and June first, then Strand, then Charlie, then Luci and Alicia. They all start talking at once until Isabelle quiets them all down and orders them to give Al some space.

“You two know each other?” June asks.

“Oh, right,” Al says. “This is Isabelle. She, um…we’ve met before.”

June smiles knowingly. When Isabelle’s out of earshot, June leans in and goes, “So _that’s _the girl, huh?”

With all eyes on her, Al can’t help but blush. She’s kind of grateful for the bruised mess her face still is. “She’s hot, right?” Al whispers.

But apparently Al didn’t whisper quietly enough, because Luci, Alicia, and Charlie stifle giggles with their hands, and Strand sighs, “Oh, boy.”

“Did I miss something?” John asks.

*

Al ends up in the medical wing of the facility, mostly because Isabelle forces her to go. The doctor prods at her face, ribs, stomach – Al tries to swat the doctor’s hand away from her, but Isabelle quickly pulls a chair over and takes Al’s hand in both her own. Al relaxes, just a little, and grudgingly lets the doctor continue to poke at her. Finally, the doctor injects her with something, looking only to Isabelle for permission.

The second the doctor leaves them alone, Al blurts, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s not the kind of thing you have to understand, Al,” Isabelle says softly. “At least, not yet.”

“But –”

“Can you just find a way to be happy for now?” Isabelle interrupts.

Al smiles. Her face, somehow, feels a lot better. “I am happy,” she whispers.

Isabelle smiles in return and brushes Al’s bangs back from her face. “Good,” Isabelle says gruffly. She clears her throat, and when her eyes meet Al’s, her expression softens. “I am too.”

Al’s eyes close, and she swallows hard then nods. “I thought I’d never see you again,” Al admits.

“I’m here now.”

Al nods and tightens her grasp on Isabelle’s hand. She doesn’t have to say anything else.

Isabelle stays.

*

Luci stares unabashedly at Isabelle all through breakfast. Charlie and Alicia whisper and giggle and jab at each other with their forks while pretending they aren’t gossiping about Al and her “hot soldier friend.” They know damn well her name is Isabelle, but apparently, it’s funnier this way. John and June take turns feeding each other, and Strand looks about ready to bang his head against the wall.

“So,” Luci says, ignoring how Charlie and Alicia are mimicking John and June’s antics just to her left. “Isabelle? How’d you two meet?”

“It’s a long story,” Isabelle says.

Charlie drops a forkful of eggs into Alicia’s lap, and their laughter is loud enough to get John and June to stop. Al sets her fork down and covers her face with her hands. Whatever that doctor injected her with worked a goddamn miracle. Luci continues to ask Isabelle harmless questions as Alicia pelts Charlie with chunks of fruit in Charlie’s attempts to catch them in her mouth.

“So, are you guys like an official thing?” Luci asks as everyone’s starting to disperse, and Al groans. She finally feels like she understands Strand’s frustration.

“Al and Isabelle, sitting in a tree –” Charlie says, but she’s cut off when Alicia clamps her hand over her mouth and leads her away.

Isabelle grins and gives Luci a slight shrug, shoving her final forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“You aren’t off the hook,” Luci says, pointing a finger at Al. “We’re going to talk later.”

“Oh my God,” Al says once all her friends have _finally _walked away. “I’m so sorry. They aren’t normally like this, but I guess when you put them in a normal setting –”

“It’s okay,” Isabelle laughs. She nudges Al’s arm with her elbow then stands, taking her tray with her. “I like your friends. They’re fun.”

*

Al thinks nothing of her room assignment until she gets there at the end of the day. She’s exhausted, so she knows all of her friends must be, too. She assumes they’ve placed her with one of them – maybe Luci, Alicia, or Charlie, since John and June probably got placed together. They _are _married, after all. But when Al unlocks the door and flings it open, she freezes in the entrance as Isabelle swivels around in the desk chair.

Al has never seen her out of that strange uniform. Not really, at least. But now, she’s in sweats and a tank top, glasses perched on her nose.

The first thing that leaves Al’s mouth is, “You can’t see?”

Isabelle laughs and pulls the glasses from her face, setting them on the desk. “Contacts are a thing, Al.”

“I guess I just assumed – never mind.”

Isabelle hums. “Shut the door.”

Wordlessly, Al shuts the door. She’s been alone with Isabelle before, obviously, but this feels different. Just to have something to do, Al pulls her boots off.

“I spent all day with some of your friends,” Isabelle informs.

“Oh, God,” Al groans. “What did they do? I’ll –”

“They’re fine,” Isabelle laughs. “But Luci did interrogate me until I told her that we’re together, so I hope you don’t mind.”

Al blinks. “I – uh, I don’t mind.”

“Good, because Luci promised she was going to question you next, so we need to get our story straight.”

Al nods, jaw hanging open. Isabelle stands from the desk and pushes the chair in. Al still has more questions than answers, but she shelves them for the time being. She crosses the room to meet Isabelle halfway, not even thinking.

Isabelle stops just short, keeping their lips inches apart so she can whisper, “You know, I really regret not kissing you when we camped out on the edge of that cliff.”

“Yeah, you just had to wait until after you almost killed me,” Al murmurs.

“Shut up,” Isabelle chuckles. She grabs Al by the waist, tugging at the fabric of her shirt. “I’m a changed woman now.”

“With no more regrets, I hope.”

“I mean, I have a few other regrets from that night,” Isabelle says.

There’s a mischievous glint in Isabelle’s eyes, and Al grins. “Something we can fix?”

Isabelle pulls Al’s shirt over her head, tosses it aside.

“Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!
> 
> I forgot to add on the last story I posted that you can find me on tumblr at blinkaftermidnight if you want to say hi!


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